sunlight
by aweasleyjumper
Summary: there is nothing golden or yellow on him, about him—and yet something about him reminds her of the sun—warm and safe and secure and charming and warm. FemHarry.
1. Chapter 1

**notes:** i literally wrote this in about 20 minutes today at the maths class, it suddenly came up on my mind, and wow.

#

She lies at the edge of the lake, her eyes closed, the sunlight lighting her face, and a small content smile on her lips. The wind plays softly with her auburn hair, making a mess out of it. She sighs. Her eyes flutter.

She hears a set of footsteps. They stop near her—and the sound of someone sitting near her. She sighs again. She opens her eyes, sunlight fills her eyes. She sits up and looks at the person next to her.

His hair a brown tousled wild mess, there is a tentative smile on his face. His grey eyes are fixed on her, shining with something she does not quite understand.

There is nothing golden or yellow on him, about him—and yet something about him reminds her of the sun—warm and safe and secure and charming and warm.

She does not say anything to him, waits for him to start speaking. She turns and starts to remove her shoes. Once her feet are free, she slowly brings them closer to the lake. When her feet touched the water, she hisses suddenly at the cold and immediately moves them up.

He chuckles quietly next to her—too quietly that she almost does not hear him. But she does, and she turns to give him a glare. Without leaving her eyes off of him, almost daringly, she lowers her feet to the water again.

He smiles.

"I believe you." he says.

"On what?" she replies. "You need to be more specific, I'm afraid."

She turns her glance to her feet, and slowly starts to move them. up and down. forward and backward. The water blurs.

He shakes his head.

"That you did not put you name in the goblet. I believe you."

She stares at him bemusedly, her face tilted slightly at right—she looks at him like looking a puzzle she is solving.

She nods her head slowly and her lips curl into a smile.

"Thank you, Diggory."


	2. Chapter 2

**notes:** i wasn't really planning on continuing, at least not for a while but, yeah, here it is.

#

She finds him sitting near the lake—the exact same place they talked—if you can call that talking—about a week ago.

She finds she is rather nervous—whether it is because of her talk with Sirius last night (which means Sirius is back in the country and she will kill him with her bare hands if he gets caught by the ministry) or because what Hagrid showed her last night (dragons, real, fucking, _gigantic_ dragons) or if it is simply because she is about to talk to Cedric (who is very, very handsome, she thinks) she does not know.

She decides on the dragons, because she is Hyacinth Potter, and there is no way she is afraid of talking to a boy—no matter how good-looking or charming or—or—he is.

She pinches her thumb, idly plays with her fingers, wrangling them with each other. She takes a deep breath, straightens her shoulders and raises her head. She makes her way towards Cedric.

He looks back when he hears her footsteps. He grins at the sight of her. His smile is carefree, and showing all his teeth and it makes her smile too. She thinks how different —and yet almost the same—this is from their last meeting in this place.

She sits down next to him. She bites her lower lip. She sighs.

"I know what the first task is." she blurts out, and flinches. She squeezes her eyes shut together in annoyance.

When she opens them, Cedric is looking at her, his eyes wide.

"W. .hat? Ho—how?" he stutters.

She shakes her head, her hair flying. "It doesn't matter. I have ways. And Fleur and Krum probably, already know too. Listen, the first task," She breathes out, huffing. It feels like it is hurting her physically to say it out loud. "The first task is dragons. One for each of us. We have to—have to fight them, I think."

Cedric's jaw drops, his mouth formes an 'o', his skin pale and his eyes even wider than before. She almost wishes she had a camera, just to capture his expression and remember it later in the future.

"D. .dragons? Are they what—are they crazy?"

She sighs. She carelessly runs her hand through her tangled hair.

"I think they are—a bit, yeah." she nods.

He scoffs, "A bit?"

She gives him a bitter smile and says sardonically, "At least you chose to compete, didn't you?"

He winces, "If I knew there were going to be dragons, I don't think I would."

She laughs at that—because no one actually sane would. "No you wouldn't. The only one who would willingly fight a dragon would probably be a Gryffindor, don't you think? And I don't see you wearing red and gold, Diggory." she grins.

#

 **notes#2:** reviews would be nice.


	3. Chapter 3

The tent for the champions is cramped—and certainly does not help with the nerves in her stomach.

When she gets there, the other three—the actual champions—are already inside. Krum is scowling—which seems the only expression he has—Fleur is pacing across the room and Cedric—well, Cedric looks a bit green.

She wonders how she looks, if even the seventeen year olds look scared, the fourteen year old cannot really have much of a chance.

Cedric looks up when he hears her, and he gives her a shaky smile—or tries to.

She raises her hand, waves her fingers as a greeting. She grimaces. She makes her way to a chair, and sits.

Two seconds later, Cedric joins her.

"You okay?"

She swallows. She shakes her head.

"Yea—no, no, I don't think I am okay."

He sighs. He nods.

"Me neither." he says, his voice almost in a whisper.

She looks up at him. She grins softly.

"Well, don't die, Diggory, will you? Wouldn't want to stop seeing your pretty face."

He laughs. She does not say anything about the slight shaky edge in his voice. They are about to face a dragon, after all.

"You find my face pretty then, eh, Potter?"

She stutters a little. "I. .yes. I guess."

"You guess?" he teases, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That's all you got?"

"What do you want? A confession of my undying love for you?" she asks.

He shrugs. "It would be a nice conversation starter, I guess." He winks.

"A conversation starter?" she exclaims mockingly. "That's all you see it? Really, Diggory?" she tuts. "That is no way to treat a girl."

"Oh?" he says, faking a surprise. "Then how—" His sentence gets cut off in the middle when Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman walks in the tent. She tenses. Why they are in the tent comes to her again, after she forgot about it for a few minutes.

Dragons, right.

#

 **notes:** review, pretty please?


	4. Chapter 4

"Ouch, that must have hurt." she says looking at the side of his face that had been burned by the dragon, her hand raised slightly, her fingers almost reaching him, as if she wants to touch his face but decides against it in the last minute. She lowers it down after a few seconds.

It is after the first task. She sits alongside him, facing him.

He pouts, but she can see the twinkle in his eyes. He nods looking seriously. "Yes, it did. Maybe you can kiss it better?"

She blushes quickly, her face almost the same shade as her hair. She puffs out a breath. "Oh, but I was sure Madam Pomfrey saw it done, and the burn is almost completely gone. I heard she has the most magical touch." she says, raising an eyebrow.

He makes a face. "Ugh. Really? You had to say that?"

She shrughs, "You were the one that started it." She smirks.

He sighs, looking petulant, "Yeah, fine."

A few seconds of silence, "What about your shoulder, is it good?" he asks.

She looks at her shoulder, traces a finger over it. "Yeah—yeah, it is good. Madam Pomfrey fixed it in minutes."

He shakes his head. "Yeah, good." They fall into a silence—a silence that neither comfortable nor the opposite, a silence that just is.

A few minutes later he opens his mouth once, then closes it. A few seconds, and he opens it again. This time he decides to speak. "So, I heard you used your Firebolt? Nice trick."

She grins, "Oh yes, thank you. Flying is the best of my abilities, so I decided it would be my only chance to get past a dragon."

"Your best ability?" He bumps his shoulder to hers. "I remember last year a thirteen-year-old falling off of her broom." he says, smiling widely—showing most of his teeth. His grin reminds her of the sunlight—again, and she does not understand what it is that makes it so. Why does she always—always—think of the sun while looking at him? It seems unfair to her.

She gasps, once what he said dawns to her. "Hey! It was not my fault there were dementors on the field. We all know I am the better flier." she says haughtily. She keeps the appearance for only a few seconds, and in the end she cracks a smile.

"I want a rematch after this whole tournament finished, by the way. One on one maybe?" she asks, biting her lower lip.

He immediately agrees, "Of course, yeah, that—that would be nice." he nods.

She smiles broadly, "And this time, I will be the one to catch the Snitch, Diggory."

He scoffs, "Yeah, sure. Whatever floats your boat, Potter." he smirks arrogantly, so sure of himself, and she smiles.


	5. Chapter 5

"Potter, traditionally the champions and their partners open the ball."

"Wh—What? The first dance? But I cannot—I don't know how to dance!" she says, shaking her head vehemently.

Professor McGonagall looks at ther, eyes narrowed, lips thinned. "Then I suggest, Miss Potter, you learn how to."

"But—" she starts, but a look from Professor McGonagall is enough for her to shut her mouth. She nods meekly. "Yes, Professor."

She turns around, to leave the classroom but before she leaves, she turns again. "Can—Can the champions go with—with each other? Professor?" she asks, her cheeks burning red.

Professor McGonagall raises an eyebrow. "Yes, Miss Potter, they can."

She lets out the breath she is holding. She nods. "Thanks, Professor." she says and leaves the classroom hurriedly.

She does not see Professor McGonagall looking at her back, an amused smile on her face.

#

She flops down next to Ron, at the dinner, across Hermione. She rests her head against the table. She puffs out a breath. She groans. A second later, she raises her head, and sees Ron and Hermione looking at her with questioning looks on their faces.

"The champions, apparently, have to do the first dance at the Yule Ball. I have to learn how to dance until then." she makes a face.

Hermione's face lights up at the mention of the dance. "Oh! I can teach you!" she exclaims.

Hyacinth, eyes wide open, asks, "What? You know how to dance?"

Hermione looks offended. "Yes, of course I know." she says a bit defensively.

Hyacinth nods excitedly. "Great, then you can teach me, yes!" she says. After a moment, a thought appears in her head. "Do wizards have the same kinds of dances as muggles?" she muses aloud. She takes a glass and fills it water.

Hermione's eyes widen, and both she and Hyacinth look at Ron expectantly.

"Well, how should I know? I don't know any muggle dances, do I?" is all comes out of Ron's mouth. Hermione looks a bit crestfallen, but lightens up again in a second. "I will just have to research about it then. I'm sure there are some half-bloods that knows both of the cultures' dances, no?"

Hyacinth nods. She watches the glass of water in her hands for a while, twirling it. "Now, all I have to do is finding a date." She groans. "Oh, that is not going to be easy."

Ron chimes in, "Well, you are the champion, and The-Girl-Who-Lived, I'm sure someone will ask you." His face twists in a grimace. "I don't know what I am going to do."

Hyacinth looks at Ron for a second and giggles. "Oh, don't worry, Ron. I'm sure you will find someone to ask." she says, eyeing Hermione.

Hermione, cheeks with a slight tinge of pink, cuts in—loudly, "What about you Hyacinth, do you have anyone in your mind?"

Hyacinth clears her throat. Her gaze turns to the Hufflepuff table, and her eyes finds him in a matter of seconds. He is sitting with his friends, laughing about something one of them said, his head thrown back, his hair messy, and she finds she would really like to be the one who made him laugh like that.

"Yeah, I have someone, I think." she says in an airy voice—the voice that warns people she is not really listening to the conversation around her.

Hermione follows her gaze, and smiles when she sees who Hyacinth is looking. "You can just ask him yourself, you know. Instead of waiting for him to do."

Hyacinth splutters slightly. "Asking him? Myself?!" She scoffs. "Are we talking about the same person? There is no way I can ask him."

Hermione's smile turns into a smirk. "So much for being a Gryffindor."

"Oh, shut up, will you?" mutters Hyacinth.


	6. Chapter 6

**notes:** this is the cheesiest thing i have ever written, oh my god.

#

A week passes after the Yule Ball was announced, and two people asks her to be their date. The first one is a third year Gryffindor she never really saw in the common room. The second is a student from Durmstrang, about two metres tall and has a look on his face that reminds her of a serial killer. She declines both of them as politely as she can.

The second week sees three more asking her. A Ravenclaw fifth year, another Durmstrang student and to her surprise—a female Slytherin sixth year. She declines them too.

(When Ron hears she said no to five people, he asks loudly why the hell would she do that, what if they are the last to ask and she would not have anyone to go to the ball with.

Hermione just smiles and shakes her head.)

.

She goes to sit near the Great Lake at the end of the week. She feels content there, peaceful. Away from the prying eyes and scowles and insults and fake smiles.

The weather is cold, the lake is almost frozen but still a smile formes on her face as she sits at the coast of the lake.

She wraps her arms tightly around her legs and rests her head on her knees. She tilts her head slightly and just watches. Her eyes drop and grows heavier as the minutes pass, and the only thing that keeps her awake becomes the cold wind that is determined to make her fly.

After a while, when she just decides to stand up and go inside the castle, she hears a set of footsteps. She turns around to see Cedric coming her way.

She raises her hand to wave him. A few seconds that feels like a blink of an eye, Cedric stops in front of her.

"Hi." she says, not knowing what else to say.

"Hello." Cedric replies, grinning. "I've been trying to find you for the last half an hour. You never notice just how big this castle is until you try to find someone in it."

She chuckles, and his grin grows even bigger.

"Why were you trying to find me?" she asks, a few seconds later.

Cedric gulps and brings the hand he was holding behind forward. He is holding a simple flower. A vivid purple.

 _Hyacinth,_ she realizes.

Her cheeks grow red and warm in the quarter of a second, and her eyes widen.

"H—how? Wh—?" she stutters. Her mind feels numb, not able to form any coherent words.

Cedric keeps smiling down at her, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Will you go to the ball with me?" he asks

Her breath caughts on her throat, her eyes widen even further, her jaw drops and she just stares at him.

When the silence becomes long enough to become awkward, Cedric clears his throat, raises an eyebrow. "Well..?"

She lets out a breath. She closes her mouth. She gulps audibly. She opens her mouth again, to form words but fails. She closes it again and nods. A little too enthusiastically.

He chuckles and she can hear the relief in his voice.

"Okay. Good." he nods.

His hand jerks and he bring the hyacinth in his hand a little further.

"This was for you, by the way." he says, a little smile on his face.

She grins, finally her mind catching up with her. "Oh." she says and reaches to the flower and takes it from his hand. Her fingers brush his hand. She breathes out.

She examines the flower in her hand. She brings it closer to her nose and smells it. It smells like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"How—How did you find a hyacinth in this weather? It is almost snowing." she asks, her grin bigger than she ever had before.

"Magic." is all he says and he winks at her.

.

He walks with her to the Fat Lady's portrait. They talk while walking, talking about everything and nothing, this and that. The smile on her face never falls off of her face from the lake to the Gryffindor tower.

When they reach to the portrait, she turns around and faces him.

"Well, this is my stop." she says.

He nods. "I will see you later, then." he says, the question in his voice.

She smiles at him. "Yeah, of course." she says and before she can think and decide against it, she stands on her toes and presses a kiss against his cheek.

"See you later, Cedric." she breathes out.

.

Once inside her dorm, she presses her face against her pillow. She screams. And screams.

(Later, Ron tells her that the pillow didn't really work and muffled her voice, and her scream could be heard from the common room.)


End file.
